Misha and Rosie
by MaybeSomeday19
Summary: Two Russians meet and fall in love.


Russia 1938

It was just an average day. The weather was just as unpredictable as always, and almost every kitchen smelled of borsht. In one small home, looking as though it was about to fall apart, a tall man stood in his living room speaking to three of his closest friends.

"Nyet, I will not go," he said gruffly, taking a long drink of the vodka bottle he held in his hand. His friends were trying desperately to get him to some sort of social event, as he had not been out of his house without an important reason for months.

"But Misha, you never come with us!" a short, round man exclaimed. "Just this one night! Who knows, you might even meet a girl!"

"A girl? You know what happened the last time I met a girl, Vitaly? She admits cheating on me and throws me out like yesterday's news." Misha had convinced himself that being in a relationship was pointless. Not that he couldn't get women, he very easily could with just one glance of those warm brown eyes.

His friends pestered him for a few long minutes before he threw his hands up in defeat. "Fine! I'll go! But don't expect me to stay long." One of the three other men, Aleksei, patted him on the back.

"Don't worry, Misha. You'll be fine!" With that, the four of them took off into the cold night, singing an old Russian tune and laughing at each other's jokes.

A trio of women stood outside of the bar, two being held back by the one young girl looking up at the sign. "I don't know… I don't like the thought of men trying to grab me and flirt while their breath stinks of alcohol." She was fairly pretty, with long brown curls and bright green eyes framed by delicate eyelashes.

"Relax, Rosie," piped one of her friends, who was a breathtaking sight to behold with her ruby red lips, long black hair and eyes that shone like ice in the sun. "We'll make sure no good for nothing scum bag even so much as looks at you. Right, Polina?" She turned to their other friend, who seemed far less attractive when standing next to these two beauties. She simply nodded, smiling warmly at Rosie, who was looking a little more confident now.

"I suppose you're right Anya… Well, what are we waiting for?" Rosie laughed merrily and took the arms of her friends, striding into the bar while not knowing that her life was about to change for the better.

Misha was beginning to wonder why he agreed to come. All of his friends were off flirting with one woman or another, leaving him alone at the bar with a drink in his hand. Every so often he would glance around as if bored and then look back at his drink after seeing nothing interesting. He was about to just get up and leave when he spotted something – or rather, someone. There, sitting just a few seats down the bar, was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She seemed to be in the same position as him, sitting alone at the bar and looking completely lost. He stared at her for a moment before looking away. _Staring is rude, Misha, _he chided himself. But yet, his eyes kept moving back towards her. He had to talk to her. He gathered up his courage and, with a little help of a shot, slowly walked over to her. He took an empty barstool beside her and was about to say something when she looked at him. Misha froze, staring into those glimmering green eyes like they were precious emeralds that would make him the wealthiest man alive. He realized he wasn't saying anything after the girl gave him a funny look, and he cleared his throat. "I apologize, I didn't mean to stare. Its just… Well, I…. Uh…" Uh oh. He was choking up. He tried to gather his thoughts but he failed to form sentences that made any sense. He was interrupted by his ramblings by a light, melodic voice.

"Its quite alright," said the girl, who was smiling at him. "Surprisingly, that's the nicest thing any guy has said to me all night." At this, Misha raised an eyebrow.

"But I didn't say anything. I couldn't even form a sentence until now."

"Exactly," she said, running her finger along the edge of the empty glass in front of her. She looked down for a moment before looking back up at him. "I'm Roza. But everyone I know calls me Rosie."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Rosie," he said, a smile coming onto his face. "I'm Misha."

They sat in silence for a long moment before both speaking at once.

"Do you want-"

"I was wondering if-"

They both laughed nervously and Rosie spoke up. "Please, you first." Misha pulled at the collar of his jacket and spoke.

"Um… can I buy you a drink? I mean, if you don't want one, that's okay, or if you want me to leave I can…" He rambled on for a minute before Rosie pressed a finger to his lips, hushing him.

"A drink would be wonderful, Misha."

After that night, Misha and Rosie saw each other frequently. They began as just good friends for a while, ignoring the remarks their friends made about how they should just get together already. They did get together eventually, and their relationship was the envy of everyone that knew them, even a few who didn't. Misha would bring her flowers when he could buy them, and she would stay up with him at night when he was sick. They were everything they ever needed.

Then the war came.

Misha didn't want to enlist at first, but with the threat of invasion increasing, he would do whatever it took to keep his sweetheart safe. Even if it meant giving up his life to spare hers. Their farewells were said in the comfort of their home, Misha dressed in his uniform and all ready to go as a tearful Rosie held him tightly.

"Promise you'll come back to me, Misha," she said quietly, pulling back to look up at him with tear filled eyes, reaching up to cup his face with her hand. Misha put his hand over hers, clutching to it tightly.

"I will always come back to you, Rosie." He leaned down to kiss her tenderly before pulling away and wiping a tear from her cheek. "I will see you soon, my love." Those were the last words he said before picking up his bag and heading outside to where the military jeep was waiting for him. Rosie watched on sadly, hand clutching the necklace he had given to her on her birthday as she watched the jeep drive off into the distance.

Every night, she would pray to whatever God there was for his safe return.


End file.
